A/N - I don't remember the reason I wrote this story. Kefka has always interested me. But no one else seems to write about him. I'm not as detailed as I'd like to be on certain aspects of the story, but it's the first multichaptered story that I've done in a really long time. A friend told me to post it here, so I'm going to.

Enjoy

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Gunshots. All he could hear was gunshots. He huddled up in his blanket, wrapping it tightly around him. It had be naïve of him to hope the war would stay out of his home town. He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the knock on the front door. What did they want?

He heard his mother answer the door, trying to be curt and kind at the same time.

"What is your business here, Gestahl?"

"I heard there was a child who could use magic here. The villagers pointed us to this house. Give him to us, or we will forcefully take him away from you."

"I assure you there is no child like that here. If you would kindly get out of my house, I have things to attend t-"

The gunshot sounded. He swallowed hard as he heard a weak, gurgled scream, and then a dull thud. What had they…what had they done?

"Search the rooms! The boy is in here somewhere!"

He went completely still as the door to his bedroom was opened. He tried not to breathe. Maybe they wouldn't see him. But he was wrong. A soldier yanked off his blanket, and he quickly curled up into a fetal position.

"Sir, I think I've found the one we're looking for."

"P-Please leave us alone! I can't use magic, I swear!"

He looked up as Gestahl walked into the room. He tried not to tremble, but it was futile. He was frightened, and nothing would change that. Perhaps they would make this less miserable. Perhaps, when they saw that his magic capabilities were nothing, they would kill him, and he could live in the afterlife with his mother.

"Get up, boy. What's your name?"

Unsteadily, the boy rose, his hands and lower lip trembling. He tried not to look the man in the eye, instead staring down at the ground. He placed his hands behind his back, clasping them tightly.

"K-Kefka, sir. I really can't do magic. J-Just tricks. I-I'm not what you're looking for. P-Please kill me so I may join my mother."

One of the soldiers scoffed. Gestahl smirked, and grabbed the boy by the arm.

"No. You're coming along with us. We need a guinea pig."

A…A guinea pig? But before he could think about it further, he felt a very strong blow to his head.

And then he saw, felt, heard nothing.